Quotes About City

Nick and I could become goodwill ambassadors for the city now that the porno shops on 42nd Street are gone. Must make mental note to contact mayor.

the infinite Manhattan night.

Yeah. I know, I'm so bridge-and-tunnel—for as long as I've been able to catch the train, I've been sneaking into the city to go to Midtown. Hang out with the bankers, merge some mergers and acquire some acquisitions. The whole thing just reeked of sex and rock 'n' roll to me. Can't you feel it in the air? Close your eyes. Feel it?" I

Anyone who's lived in Manhattan all his life always feels torn whenever he leaves it. There's the satisfaction of breaking free, for a time. But that's balanced heavily by the feeling of leaving your whole life behind, and to see it from a distance.

The novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald said that the real dark night of the soul was always three o'clock in the morning, and those sixty minutes between three o'clock and four were reliably and literally the darkest in the city.

That night, the sky poured out such torrents that the city was a drum set, every surface a source of rhythms, pavements and windows and canvas awnings, street signs and parked cars, Dumpsters throbbing like tom-toms, garbage-can lids swishing as the wind swirled bursts of rain in imitation of a drummer brush-stroking the batter head of a snare.

merely litter, as if it must have some ominous significance. As it gazed at me from the cupped palm of my right hand, I didn't realize that the sounds of the city were diminishing, until suddenly I became aware that a profound silence had fallen over the alleyway. For an instant, I thought that I had gone deaf, but then I heard myself say, "What's happening?

Little City wasn't really a city. It was more like a big town, with twenty thousand citizens. There had been fewer than four hundred residents when Thomas Little founded the place, but he had been a man with big dreams and no regard for the truth.

Everyone who was murdered in Pinehaven County or died by accident received the personal attention of Carson Conroy, who had come here to escape the senseless violence of the city.

A few thousand years of weather will eventually reduce a city to its component elements and fields of rubble, though its more restive citizens are likely to get the job done faster.

As the last of the debris fell behind her and the crash of thunder rolled away through the city, as she came to the east end of the park, the once-dark sky paled, abruptly glaucous, and cataracts of rain fell hard, fat droplets hissing through the trees and grass, snapping off the pavement, plinking the metal hoods on trash cans, carrying with them the faint bleachy odor of ozone, a form of oxygen created by lightning's alchemy.

There are many persons driving automobiles in this city who ought not to drive.

A bus came. I climbed aboard and sat on the plastic seat while the things of our city turned in the windows like the images in a slot machine.

And sometimes a dust storm would stand off in the desert, towering so high it was like another city -- a terrifying new era approaching, blurring our dreams.

Beyond my window, a thick layer of snow covered the ledge. I became aware of a hush of anticipation, a tremendous surrounding absence. I got out of bed, dressed in my clothes, and went out to look at the city.

La cálida mano de Angie se cerraba en torno a la mía mientras dábamos media vuelta y, esquivando los escombros, seguíamos el camino de la brisa en dirección a nuestra parte de la ciudad.

La ciudad, dijo el locutor, estaba a la expectativa. La ciudad, nos aseguró el locutor, contenía la respiración.

I smiled the innocuous smile of one human soul acknowledging another on a soft, quiet night in an often bustling city.

Brian joking that if there was one place in the city where the locals didn't need help learning how to shoot—or dodge—bullets, it was Dorchester.

No, a guy had one on the T when I was coming over here. I work in Cambridge.

If we want to get into the city of Salvation, if we want to get into the presence of God, if we want to come into the enjoyment of all God's provision and protection and blessings for His people, we enter through the gate of Praise.

To me, city-dwellers are The Dispossessed, unfortunates who have been deprived of every creature's right to territory. There is a sense in which country folk, however impoverished, own their birthplace and all the land around it that can be covered in a long day's tramp – the natural, immemorial limit to the territory of a human being.

Kabul reminds me of Sofia in that the traffic is virtually nil by capital city standards;

It was a hot summer—there wasn't any other kind in Boston